Unwanted By The Alpha Heir, Marked By The Northern King

Elois POV:

The carriage ride back to Rowe Manor was a blur of silent fury. The plush velvet cushions that had felt so luxurious on the way to Alston's residence now seemed to mock me. I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window, watching the city pass by, but seeing nothing. My inner wolf was restless, clawing at my chest with every passing mile.

The warmth of my hope had curdled into a cold, heavy knot in my stomach.

"My lady, you look pale," my maid, Gwyneth, said softly, her voice laced with concern. She offered me a glass of water.

I opened my eyes. The reflection in the window showed a stranger with hard, amber eyes. My own. I took the glass, my fingers steady. "Gwyneth," I said, my voice even, "I need you to do something for me. Check the Lara Consortium's accounts. I want to know if my mother made another large transfer to the Pack recently."

Gwyneth's eyes widened in understanding, but she simply nodded. "Of course, my lady." She knew better than to question me when I used that tone.

My fingers tapped a restless rhythm against the windowpane. I replayed every word, every smile, every touch from Alston. The signs had all been there, hiding in plain sight. I had just been too blind with love to see them.

The carriage slowed as we approached the imposing gates of Rowe Manor. The estate was brightly lit, and I could hear the faint sounds of lively music and clinking glasses drifting through the night air. They were already celebrating the theft of my future.

As I stepped down, my aunt, Belia Rowe, a woman whose greed was only matched by her lack of taste, emerged from the main doors. Beside her was my cousin, Carson. Carson was preening in a new gown of lake blue silk, the latest design from the most exclusive couturier in the city, a couturier owned by the Lara Consortium. She even wore a matching set of pearls that I recognized from my mother's private collection.

"Elois, you are back!" Carson chirped, her smile sickeningly sweet. Her scent, a sickly sweet mix of vanilla and greed, hit my sensitive nose. She always masked her ruthless ambition beneath a sweet, obedient facade. She moved to link her arm with mine, acting like an innocent, docile younger sister. "Did you hear the good news? We are just preparing a toast for my new title!"

I pulled my arm away before she could touch me. The gesture was small, but sharp. Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second. I looked at her innocent, feigned expression and felt a wave of nausea.

Her eyes flicked down to my dress, a simple dove gray day dress, understated and modest, but undeniably fine. I saw the familiar flicker of covetous resentment in her gaze, the same look she had worn since childhood whenever I received something she wanted. She was already calculating how to make it hers. The couturier who designed it was, after all, a Lara Consortium asset. In her mind, that meant it was rightfully hers.

Belia's sharp eyes raked over me, her lips curling in disgust when she saw my cold expression. Her eyes flashed with the yellow hue of her wolf for a brief second. "Such a gloomy face on a day of joy. It is truly bad luck. We have been waiting for you to join the celebration, but it seems you are too selfish to be happy for your own cousin. Still spending your mother's money on frivolities, I see," she sneered, conveniently forgetting that she herself was wearing Lara silk and drinking Lara wine. "Some of us have actual responsibilities to the Pack."

I ignored her, sweeping past them and into the main house.

The drawing room was heavy with a festive yet tense atmosphere. My grandmother, the Matriarch Cydney Rowe, a cruel woman who despised my mother's weak, human-like merchant blood but happily drained her wealth, sat enthroned in her high backed chair, her gnarled hand gripping her ebony cane. My mother, Adriene Lara, sat in a smaller chair to the side, looking anxious and small.

Cydney's cane thumped hard against the marble floor the moment I entered. Her oppressive Matriarch aura rolled over me, a heavy pressure designed to make weaker wolves submit. "So, you deign to return with that sour look. Keeping the entire family waiting. What kind of behavior is that?"

My mother stood, her expression fraught with worry. "Mother Rowe, she was..."

"Silence, Adriene," Cydney snapped, and my mother flinched, sinking back into her seat.

Carson and Belia swept in behind me. Carson immediately rushed to Cydney's side, fussing over her and massaging her shoulders like a devoted servant.

Cydney's harsh expression softened as she looked at Carson. She patted her hand affectionately. "Carson is always so thoughtful."

Then, her cold eyes fixed on me. "We have been informed of the Alpha heir's decision," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "Carson becoming the heir's Luna brings tremendous glory to the entire Rowe family. You should be thrilled. A merchant's daughter like you, elevated to the status of secondary mate to the future Alpha King? It is far more than your dirty blood deserves."

"Indeed," Belia chimed in, a smug smirk on her face. "You are too selfish, Elois. Even if a merchant's daughter like you managed to become Luna, you would only be a laughingstock among the nobles. Carson, on the other hand, has pure blood. She will make a proper Luna. You should be grateful that Alston is willing to keep you at all."

My mother's face went white. She stared at me, her eyes wide with shock and pain. They had not even bothered to tell her. She was hearing this for the first time, just like I had.

My mother had always compromised, believing we were one family. She felt inferior because of her merchant background, constantly yielding to their demands. But seeing them gleefully steal my future finally shattered my last illusion. If they were going to despise us anyway, why should I suffer in silence? They were nothing but parasites.

A cold, bitter laugh threatened to bubble up from my chest. They were all in on it. A conspiracy of vipers.

They expected tears. They expected a breakdown. I gave them neither.

Instead, I met the Matriarch's gaze, my voice calm and sharp as a blade. I stood my ground, my own amber eyes flashing, refusing to bare my throat to her. "Then I assume the two thousand gold marks for Carson's title will be paid by the second house? Since you despise my dirty merchant blood so much, surely you will not stoop so low as to use my dirty money to buy her a crown?"

The room fell silent. They stared at me as if I had sprouted a second head.

Belia was the first to find her voice, her tone a shrill shriek. "What nonsense are you talking about? That money was a donation from your mother to the Pack!"

My gaze shifted to my mother. Her lips trembled, but no words came out. She could not deny it. My heart sank. She had compromised again, sacrificing her own wealth for a moment of peace in this wretched family.

Cydney's voice was like cracking ice. "Insolence! The Lara fortune belongs to the Rowe Pack through marriage! I, as Matriarch, will decide how it is used!"

For the first time in my life, I did not shrink from her glare. I looked directly into her sharp, cruel eyes. "Oh? I was unaware that federal law had changed. A wife's personal assets are her own, are they not?"

I raised a delicate eyebrow, a smirk playing on my lips. "Or has the Rowe Pack's authority grown to surpass that of the Alpha King's laws?"

Cydney was speechless. Her face turned a mottled, ugly purple, the veins in her neck bulging against her wrinkled skin. Her inner wolf, a mangy and ill tempered creature I had only glimpsed once as a child, flashed behind her eyes, a snarl of pure, possessive greed. She wanted to shift. She wanted to tear me apart with her claws. But she could not. Not here. Not without proving me right. Her hand trembled so violently on her cane that the ebony wood rattled against the marble floor. Belia and Carson gaped at me, stunned by my audacity. They had never seen this Elois before. The compliant, quiet girl was gone.

I saw a flicker of something in my mother's eyes, surprise, fear, but also a tiny spark of pride.

I had said enough. I turned to my mother, my voice softening. "Mother, I am tired. Let us go to our rooms."

For the first time, I walked out of a family meeting before being dismissed. I would let them see exactly what kind of life they were about to live without me. But before that, there was one even more important thing I had to do.